


Don't Stand So Close

by septemberprudence



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-19
Updated: 2015-06-19
Packaged: 2018-04-05 03:38:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4164273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/septemberprudence/pseuds/septemberprudence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mark has always had boundaries with his students, but Mitch is different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Stand So Close

The more years that passed, the younger Mark's students started to seem. Some of them _were_ young, of course, the twelve and thirteen year olds from the junior years barely more than children. But when Mark remembered back to when he first started teaching, he recalled how the older kids, the seniors from Year 12, felt almost like his peers, so similar to his friends from uni that sometimes he'd come close to forgetting himself, being a shade too familiar. It had taken time, but he'd learned to be careful, eventually finding the balance between supportive and distant.

Boundaries, he had always told himself, and eventually it became second nature. 

Mark was in his thirties now, and while he still enjoyed teaching, he found himself becoming more and more tired at the end of each day. The kids mostly weren't so bad, but the bureaucracy of school got to him sometimes, the red tape and infighting and power plays. Mark had never been one to play politics, and it wasn't easy to deal with.

It didn't help that this week he was stuck with supervising detention after school, and while the small amount of extra pay he received was a definite bonus, he could think of a thousand things he'd rather be doing.

Today there were six kids, all boys, and some of them Mark only knew by sight from around the corridors, but there were a few from his classes. 

Like Mitch.

Mitch was a bit of a strange one, Mark had to admit. He'd become practised at reading students over the years, instinctively sussing out what made them tick, but Mitch was something of an enigma. He always sat in the back row of Mark's classes, not causing any trouble, not even speaking, but _staring_ , right at Mark, dark eyes intense as his gaze never for a second wavered. Whenever Mark tried to get him to participate and asked him a direct question, then Mitch would shrug his shoulders and say, "Dunno, sir." But his assignments were always handed in on time, and he received reasonably good marks on his tests.

Mark could could never quite shake the feeling that Mitch maybe kind of had a thing for him, but that was probably just his ego talking. He'd had students make a move on him a few times over the years, but they'd always been pretty easily shut down, just kids with crushes.

Mitch never seemed like a kid. Mitch was the one student who never seemed young to Mark. He was small, yeah, but there was something disturbingly _adult_ in his eyes, the way he looked at Mark, the set of that chiselled jawline, the line of his full lips.

Mark shook his head, tried not to think about it. Detention only lasted for an hour, but it may as well have been an eternity. He had some marking he needed to finish, but it was difficult to focus as two of the boys were squabbling, muttering at each other and aiming kicks across the space between their chairs.

Mark sighed pointedly, not wanting to waste the energy it would take to get angry at them. "None of us want to be here, guys," he told them. "Let's not make it any harder than it has to be, yeah?"

They settled somewhat, giving each other one final shover. "He started it, sir," one of them said petulantly, and Mark ignored the comment.

He scanned the room, eyes resting for a second on Mitch, who was seated at the back of the room as usual. Mitch caught Mark's eye and slowly, deliberately bit his bottom lip. Mark didn't look away, not wanting to give the impression that the kid was getting to him. He nodded slightly, trying for bemused disinterest, but he could feel his eyes widen as he saw Mitch's hand slide down under his desk, coming to rest on his crotch. He stroked himself, his gaze narrow and calculating as he stared back at Mark, very obviously gauging his reaction, waiting to see Mark would do.

Mark quickly looked back down at his marking, feeling himself flush. He tried to concentrate, reading over the essay in front of him, correcting the spelling and grammar mistakes. His phone was on the desk next to him, and he checked the time, willing the minutes to pass.

When at last the clocked ticked over, Mark said, "Okay, that's it," and before he'd even finished the first word, the rest of the boys leaped up, grabbing their school bags and loudly exiting the room, pushing and rough housing like large, barely restrained puppies.

Mitch stayed behind, but Mark paid him no attention, and as he stood up to leave, Mitch didn't move. He was still sitting with his legs spread wide, though he was no longer touching himself. Mark couldn't help but look down, for once able to stare openly without having to be concerned what anyone else would think. He could see the outline of Mitch's hard cock through his pants, the long, thick length of it, and the sight made Mark swallow, though he told himself he wasn't tempted.

"I'll see you then," he said, walking out of the room, not glancing back. He headed straight to the small staff room he shared with the few other teachers in his department, because whatever else might be on his mind, he really did need to finish marking those essays, and he knew if he went home, he wouldn't be motivated enough to bother.

So he poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down at his desk, taking a moment to gather his thoughts and refocus. Mitch was probably just playing silly buggers, Mark mused, messing with things he wasn't old enough to understand, trying to get a rise out of Mark. Well, he wasn't going to get the satisfaction, Mark decided firmly.

He worked on until there was only one essay left in the pile, rubbing the back of his neck and yawning as he picked it up and started reading through it. His mind began to wander, distracted, because he could _feel_ something, he was sure, though the room was silent, the school seemingly empty.

Mark glanced back over his shoulder, just to check, and Mitch was standing in the doorway, waiting, watching. Mark spun his chair around. "How long have you been there?" he snapped, feeling oddly exposed and on the defensive. But Mitch didn't say anything, only walking in and shutting the door behind him. "Can I help you with something?" Mark forced himself to ask, but there was no point in pretending he wasn't aware what was going on, not when Mitch was walking towards him. "Stop," Mark told him. "You need to stop," he said, and Mitch obeyed, halting a few feet away.

"It's okay, sir," he said, voice soft and reassuring. "It's okay." He didn't come any closer, not yet, but he unzipped his pants, shoving them down along with his underwear. His cock jutted out from his body, hard and proud, and _no_ , Mark tried to say, but the word died on his lips, frozen there as he stared.

The kid was _big_ , just as big as he looked back in the classroom, and, unlike Mark, he was uncut. Mark watched as Mitch touched himself, hand sliding up and down, the head of his cock glistening as his foreskin glided wetly back and forth over it.

He moved nearer, and Mark stood up, trying to back away, but Mitch only followed, step by step until Mark was trapped in the corner of the room, spine pressed up against the wall, the edge of the staff notice board digging into his back as he tried to shrink away, deny himself.

But there was no denying what he felt, and he knew exactly what that made him. The word resounded in his brain, the shame of it almost overwhelming.

"I won't tell anyone, sir," Mitch whispered as he sunk down on to his knees. "I know you want me." He carefully unfastened Mark's jeans, taking out his cock with quick, practised movements. And Mark was hard, of course he was hard, stupid fuck that he was, his cock betraying him, but he couldn't stop.

"Please," he said, unsure what he was asking for, and Mitch only licked his lips, opened his mouth. Mark inhaled, raw with anticipation and shame. He'd never done this, he would never do this, take advantage of a student, but in the moment he was helpless, every wall he'd built up around himself broken down like it was nothing.

Mitch sucked him in, and Mark's hands fisted uselessly at his sides, trying to restrain himself, but it was too late, far too late. He moaned loudly, the sound echoing in his ears as his hands gripped Mitch's hair, his hips instinctively thrusting forward.

And Mitch just took it, sucking in Mark's cock with ease, tongue and lips working until Mark was sure he was going insane, biting down to stop himself making too much noise. Mitch hadn't locked the door, he remembered, but the thought barely registered as he started to come, pushing into Mitch's throat with some force as his orgasm shot through him.

After he was done, he stood there, dizzy, wondering how much cock this kid had sucked to be that good at it, but then Mitch got to his feet. He stared at Mark, lips still wet and messy, his face dazed.

For the first time ever, he seemed not quite in control, almost vulnerable, and Mark knew he should tell him to get the fuck out of here, but there was no way he was harsh enough to leave the boy in this state. "Come here," he said, taking Mitch's cock in hand, stroking him nice and hard, no teasing. He whimpered helplessly, and Mark couldn't help himself, slouching down enough that he could reach Mitch's mouth and then kissing him, tongue licking away every trace of his own taste.

Mitch threw his head back as he came, his come spurting hot on to Mark's leg. He cried out softly as Mark bit down on the long, muscled line of his throat, just hard enough to hurt but not hard enough to leave any trace. " _Fuck_ , sir," he whispered. "Fucking hell."

They both breathed together for a minute, then Mitch stepped back calmly, tucking away his cock like nothing had ever happened. He already looked once more perfectly poised, that knowing, unreadable expression again settling over his face like a mask. But Mark had seen what lay underneath it, and he was already desperate to know more.

"I've got detention again tomorrow, sir," Mitch said. "So I guess I'll see you then."

" _Mark_ ," replied Mark. "You better call me Mark."

Mitch smirked back at him, smug. "Yeah, I'd rather call you _sir_ , sir," he said.

He turned, walking out of the room without a backwards glance.

This kid was trouble, Mark suddenly realized, real trouble, and Mark was completely out of his depth. He knew he should care, think about his career, the life he'd built, but all he could think about was tomorrow.


End file.
